He also asked if the Princes had not returned.
“No; because they have gone to Verdun,” said I.
“Why did they not send to hire their horses from my place?”
“Because they preferred to have them from Clermont.”
“Hum!” said M. Jean Baptiste. “Do you know who they were who accompanied the Duke d’Enghien and the Prince de Condé?”
“I heard them mention M. Vandreul and M. Broglie.”
“Exactly,” said he. “Réné, they come not to inspect Verdun. They have abandoned the King, and quitted France. They have gone to intrigue with strangers.”
Then I remembered the sadness of the Duke d’Enghien; and I called to mind his peculiar look, when I said that an Austrian or Prussian were easier to shoot than a pigeon. I also remembered his last words before leaving—“I hope that you will always think of me with kindness.”
Poor Prince! He had left France, and that was the cause of his sorrow.
“Would that all would follow his example,” murmured M. Drouet, “from the first to the last! But,” continued he, grinding his teeth, “I fancy that if the King or Queen were to try that move, they would not escape so easily.”